The Walk
by avery.beatrice
Summary: Quinn and Rachel's close relationship the summer before college was torn apart by one single act that took eleven seconds. This explores the events afterwards and how they slowly come back together despite a few -tiny- challenges. TW: mention of rape
1. Before

**The Walk**

Title inspired by "The Walk" by Imogen Heap

Disclaimers: I don't own Glee or anything affiliated with it. Only original characters if added.

Rated T for language, mentions of rape, and adult behavior. Will most likely move up to an M somewhere down the line. I mention at the beginning of the chapter if it should.

Trigger Warning for this chapter.

This story contains Glee history up to "Prom-Asaurus"

* * *

**before.**

You and I became best friends during the summer. We were both excited to leave for our own colleges. We slept at each other's homes, shared dinner with each other's parents, and held an unspoken rule to be as close to each other as possible to make up for the lack of friendship in these last four years.

Except I knew it wasn't a friendship and I hoped that you understood that too.

With each lingering touch, you began to get farther away from him.

The less time you spent with him, the more time with me.

I enjoyed it.

I craved it.

And I saw the fevered want in your eyes too.

I saw how irritable you became if we didn't see each other everyday. I felt the hunger in each text, each hug, and each night we woke up so close to each other that we could feel the other's heartbeat.

It was a few weeks before we left on our way to New York and New Haven. I made a silly joke that since we are going to places with 'New' in it that we must make a new start on life.

You stopped and looked at me. "What do you mean?" You asked with a soft voice.

I don't know what overcame me.

I don't know if I was suddenly overwhelmed with the fact we spent this whole summer with each other or that my body was humming with hope.

It was as if I couldn't control my body.

I counted exactly to eleven seconds before you pushed my lips away from yours. I felt your soft, warm lips for exactly eleven seconds, and I felt you want me back.

When we met eyes again your hunger was overcome with fear. Your lips began to move but no words came out.

I was scared, Rachel. I was scared of you for that tiny moment.

It was your chance to show me what love ought to be. It was your chance to teach Quinn Fabray that love was unconditional. You should have took me into your arms and held me so close. You should have kissed me for such bravery.

Because, Rachel, that is what you are. You are brave and I am weak.

"Get out," you whispered.

I saw it on your lips before the sound reached my ears.

I paused and looked at you confused and completely dumbstruck. My face was probably so comical at that moment. Yet, my heart didn't feel that way.

"Get out," you repeated. Your voice was higher with dread and panic.

A tear slide down my cheek and I knew I must have looked pathetic but I couldn't move.

"You're fucking up everything." I've never heard you curse.

"Why couldn't you let things be, Quinn? I have a plan and I have to follow it and I…...I...I just can't." Your voice became louder. You were screaming. You were panicking and you were shaking and your fear turned into anger.

Anger towards **me**.

We agreed at the beginning of the summer that we would always talk out our emotions.

Yet you yelled at me, Rachel, your voice tore me apart.

Your voice was always powerful to me. It brought me up when I had been kicked in the gut. It was the voice that I played to Beth the first night I got to babysit her. It was the most powerful tether that had brought me back to earth in my car crash.

Yet, here it was, malice.

Anger and panic and fear.

I've never seen you so scared. You looked bewildered, angry, and mad. Your eyes shifted as you tried to think of a reasonable solution to the world's problems, to our problem. You felt something and you weren't _ready_ to acknowledge it. Your face contorted into a picture of worry, doubt, and fear.

I've never seen you so uncertain and fearful in my life, Rachel. Never.

It made me cry.

A sob escaped my throat and I cried.

I took a step back from you.

Your voice turned pleading, "Please, Quinn, tell me it was an accident."

I shook my head.

I officially had no control over my body.

"Please, just say it, we can forget it ever happened," you plead, your voice becoming high again.

I shook my head.

That's when you broke.

Or I broke.

I couldn't tell because the tears were coming down in rivers and your arms weren't holding me but pushing me out of your living room and I forgot to drive my car home because I was too busy running wildly down the street.

We feel apart.

78 days of being close and now we have unraveled. Our thread was bare and it snapped apart.

...

I went to New Haven the next day.

I don't remember how or why, but I ended up standing in front of my on campus apartment that my mother shelled out the extra money for (read: took out of her savings). I would share this apartment with one other person because my mother couldn't afford all of the rent and plus she worried.

She didn't want to leave me before this all happened. Before she stood in front of a brick building with her nearly comatose daughter.

She relied on you.

She began to rely on you the third night you came over for a 'girl's night' sleep over.

I said something about being so unwanted out loud that caused the two of you to stop in your movement. Mom was awe struck. She never heard these things because I never said them.

Yet you.

You put your hand over my lips and told me...

You told me that I'm the most wanted girl in the entire universe because I had a Rachel Berry who never wanted to let me go.

That night while you slept, mom came in and said, "Quinnie, she makes me feel good. She makes me feel like you're protected."

Now my mother didn't rely on you.

(And I didn't have a Rachel Berry.)

In fact I think she is pissed at you.

She doesn't know what happened last night except that she had to pick up my car from your house at two in the morning after her exhausted daughter came into the house crying.

Now, my mother was guiding me through the big doors to the old building past the elevator to the set of stairs. Always my mother to want to exercise. She was trying so hard to be cheerful. She was trying to hard to sound happy and take my mind off everything. She was yapping about going out to IKEA and buying new furnishing for the apartment. She hoped that she could get a hold of the roommate. "Think she'll want to join?"

I barely listened.

I couldn't get you out of my head.

I never could but today was worse.

All I could remember were your wild eyes and the way your mouth quivered and how your hands were gesturing dramatically.

I wanted to shut the world out.

...

You never texted me you were safe.

You never texted me that you loved NYADA or that you have found your favorite room to practice. You never texted me about finding an apartment or making friends.

You were so worried about making friends. I had reassured you that you would.

I hope that you did.

You never liked anything on facebook, you never replied to emails, and it was tumblr where I found out you were getting married in exactly one month.

I became a robot after I had seen that post.

I was only hanging by a nail my first month at Yale. I was focused on my school work and I barely knew my roommate (my mother knew her well). I barely left my room, Rachel, only to go to class.

I had lost so much.

I lost a friend.

I lost the girl that I had fallen in love with.

I lost, most importantly, you.

The night before your wedding you texted me.

I don't think you meant to because Santana and Brittany said that they got the same exact text. They were trying to console me. It wasn't working well. Santana threatened to drive from Kentucky to Connecticut if I didn't get over it. Yet she understood. She knew I really hurt. So, she told me that they received the same mass text.

_**Can't wait to see you tomorrow. **_

There it was, right in my face.

I couldn't deal.

I couldn't deal with the fact that you would send that to me. I prayed it was a mistake.

I couldn't understand the world and how my storyline in it always got fucked up. I would be doing so well one day. I would be excelling and then next thing, by some invisible force, I fell. Smashed.

I was angry. I was enraged.

That night I was reckless and more importantly, I became careless.

I tagged along with Lily, my roommate, to a party with one thing in mind.

Alcohol.

It was a poor choice.

So was accepting a cup from a frat boy.

So was drinking it.

So was not telling Lily I felt funny afterwards.

Instead I gulped it down and accepted another.

I don't know how long I was out.

I don't even remember passing out.

I woke up with my panties around my ankles and my dress ripped. I didn't know where I was when I woke up except that the earth was cold beneath my legs. It didn't fully hit me what had occurred. I felt physical pain but I attributed to my heart being torn apart these last few months.

There were only a few things that I realized.

I stood up for the first time, bloodied and in the backyard of Alpha Phi Delta, when you were walking down the isle.

Tears never came and nothingness began to spread throughout my body like a cruel disease as you smiled at him across from you.

I found my phone ten feet away with twelve miss calls from Lily. And Brittany. And Santana. And my mom.

And you.

When I called Lily to come pick me up, you were hesitating on your 'I Dos'.

When you said it out loud, the disease overcame me.

The next time I saw you was two months after your wedding.

It was Christmas.

I was meeting my mother in New York City for winter break and I stepped off the subway to exit near Times Square.

I slipped on the sidewalk and by happenstance, bumped into you.

You were beautiful and radiant in the twinkling holiday lights of New York City.

I wasn't twinkling.

There wasn't any lights in my eyes.

Instead I stood in front of you with dull blond hair, sad eyes, and there was a swell to my belly. It was round and hard, barely there, except it was there and with it was a purse full of the shame that it carried. I wasn't ashamed of it. No, I was ashamed of what caused it. I was ashamed at how I looked while standing in front of you.

You looked completely flawless.

While I looked as if I carried every flaw of mine on my body.

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**Feedback is always welcomed and encouraged.**


	2. After

**2. After.**

Thank you to everyone who favorite and left feedback. It really inspired me and I loved getting your point of view. I hope the angst isn't too much. I'm just an angst type of person who got a 'what if' idea that I wanted to see written. I hope to read this story a few months from now satisfied. I hope that as you guys read it that you see that it is a journey of healing for Quinn (and Rachel too) and not just her demise. I hope that I can convey that Quinn not getting Rachel's love wasn't her big issue but just the tipping point of an already broken girl. I feel like Quinn still has much healing to do that isn't shown (or done on Glee). Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this chapter.

You can also find me on tumblr: foodinherbelly . tumblr . com

Trigger warning for the chapter.

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I wrapped my arm around my waist to subside the nauseated feeling that was suddenly taking over my stomach. There was a flutter in the bottom of my abdomen. It was a butterfly's wing of a tickle and I couldn't tell if **it** was the cause or you.

Given that I probably wouldn't be able to feel a kidney bean size fetus, I contribute the fluttering to having you only a foot away from me.

The cold, bitter air blew past you and I the smell of cinnamon and peppermint came into my senses. It was your personal smell. An odd combination but it was perfect for you.

It was perfect for me too because it subsided the feelings of vomiting all over these very polite (read: rude) New York citizens. The familiarity calmed me and it calmed **it**.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was…" your voice trailed off as our eyes met.

You once told me how much you loved my green eyes. You had explained to me that when you looked into my eyes, they told you stories about me that I refused to say aloud. You told me that was okay and I was still healing. You reassured me that it was okay to take my time. It also scared me shitless but I didn't mind. I respected your honesty. You had just told me that you could stare into my eyes all day and that had made me feel good.

Once you fell asleep doing just that.

Looking into my eyes. Being so close to me. I felt your heartbeat that night.

It was moments like those that I felt whole.

Rachel, before our summer together, I hadn't felt complete.

I don't mean that you completed me as a person.

I understand more than anyone that people make mistakes.

We are only human after all.

No, you completed me in the way that your actions helped heal me. You must understand that I have always had people leave me after promising one thing or another. I had parents who kicked me out of my own home after they had promised to love me. I had friends who dropped me in a second once my popularity diminished. I always had people telling me one thing and doing the complete opposite. \

It wore me down, Rachel. It had worn me down when I was already such a fragile girl.

Didn't anyone see how fragile I was?

People come into my life, they made promise after promise, but they left me.

You stayed.

You stayed through all of my bullshit.

My bullying.

My pregnancy.

My downfall.

My car crash.

My recovery.

You were always there.

You stayed and that action had only reaffirmed yourself in my eyes. Throughout this past summer, your actions continued to confirm that you weren't leaving. I could trust you. I could open these big brick gates and just be Lucy Quinn Fabray without fearing anything.

Then that night happened.

I didn't expect you to return your love to me, Rachel. I swear I didn't. I would have been disappointed but I would have completely understood.

I also didn't expect you to push me away and out of your life.

That action broke me.

I was fragile and healing and needed to be handled with care and you smashed me into the concrete of rejection.

You didn't break me, Rachel. You are only but a person who acts upon your feelings.

Your actions broke me.

That is why I am here, standing in front of you, trying so hard not to meet your eyes.

If I met your eyes I might break again.

I looked down at my black canvas shoes that hurt my feet when I walked too far (read: like today). I feared meeting your eyes again, so I dropped to pick up my small black suitcase that was now resting on the dirty sidewalk.

"Q…Q…Q…Quinn?" you whispered as I stood up and straightened my pea coat.

Did you notice the little bump hidden beneath the black wool? Did you notice the swell of my small breasts or the glow to my cheeks? Did you now that I was incubating another human being? Slowly adding working cells and organs to it as the day passed? No one notices until I took off the jacket.

But you weren't no one and I wasn't just anybody and if you knew me like I knew you, then you would realize something was different.

You would notice the tiny differences in my appearance like I noticed yours.

You looked more assured of yourself, possibly even stronger than how you were just months ago.

You also looked tired.

Rachel, you looked so tired and exhausted and for a fragment of a second, fragile.

Just a fragment because you quickly adjusted yourself and flashed me a small, sincere smile.

The perfect Rachel Berry smile.

"What are you doing in the city?" You asked softly, cautiously.

I wondered if you had still talked to Santana or Brittany. I wonder if they told you about how broken I became. I wonder if Santana called you in the middle of the night a month ago screaming at how you tipped me over and shattered me. I wonder if she told you how I would call her in tears, begging to know why I wasn't enough for anyone.

I wondered if you knew what had happened to me that night before your wedding.

I wondered if Santana blamed you.

She shouldn't, Rachel, and I hope she didn't tell you.

I hoped she didn't tell you anything about me.

I wanted to be the Quinn that you used to know. The Quinn that you knew before I had kissed your lips for eleven seconds. I wanted to be her so bad, but I just couldn't.

I didn't want you to know I couldn't though, Rachel.

My answer was unexpected and it was another moment that I cursed my inability to think before I do or say something.

"You called me."

My voice wasn't strong, nor was it loud.

Over these last couple months my voice had become softer. The raspy husk of it had become only a whisper. There was no need to talk loud. Everyone I talked to (read: mom, Lily, professors) were all soft spoken with me. I didn't have anyone loud in my life anymore.

I didn't have you.

I was a barely there girl with a barely there voice.

You blinked at me and I noticed that you didn't fiddle with the hem of your jacket anymore. You began to look around and realized that there were a ton of people around us. We were standing in the middle of the entrance to the subway station down below.

Your brown eyes met mine again, "Where are you staying?"

"The Hilton."

And then you turned around. I thought you were leaving. My eyes nearly panicked and my hands grasped the hem of my coat.

Then you turned around to see if I was following you.

And then I did, Rachel, I followed you.

…

When Lily picked me up from in front of the Alpha Phi Delta's yard, she began to panic. She had called campus security and was so worried about the blood on my legs. When she saw me she knew what had happened. She saw the struggle of the night before on my ripped clothes and my stained skin. She was in such a frenzy that she didn't notice me going to her car and collapsing into her back seat.

I hurt.

I hurt so much that I thought my heart had been pulled from my body.

The pain between my legs didn't register until the officer knocked on the window, concern written all over her young face. Then it ached so much that I could only see blobs due to my smeared vision.

She asked questions that I didn't know how to answer. She tried to convince me to go to the hospital and I refused.

I couldn't handle it.

I couldn't handle the fact that I had just been raped and that the person that I loved just married another person and that my world was crumbling.

I couldn't handle anything.

So, I told the officer everything I remembered. I wasn't stupid enough to think that it would not happen again, because if there weren't any consequences for the guys, then it would happen.

I wasn't selfish.

So, I answered her questions and told her all the information.

Then I asked her to leave me alone.

If I didn't think about it, then it didn't happen.

I had control over that much.

Despite knowing that the last ounce of my control had just been ripped from my grasp.

I don't remember making it to my bed that night. I just remember being cleaned up and tucked into bed in a clean night shirt.

Then it happened again, you called.

My phone lit up and vibrated next to me on my other pillow.

"Rachel Calling" it read.

"Rachel Calling" over and over.

It was as if the universe was continuing to hurt me.

Did I deserve this abuse?

The phone rang until it went to voicemail and my heart continued to beat against my chest.

I deleted the voicemail.

I refused to listen to your happy news.

It would have been too much, Rachel. I couldn't handle it.

So, like earlier that day I shut the world out.

Mom came the next day. Santana the day after.

They weren't there because you just got married. Lily had called them about what had happened at the party. They were so worried and they needed to know that I was okay. They needed to let me know they were there to talk.

Except I didn't want to talk.

I refused to talk.

I refused to acknowledge that night even existed.

Except that it did exist.

It was raining the day that I discovered that I was pregnant. I was walking out of my last class for the day when the smell of pizza slide across my nose and caused my stomach to jump. I was puking in the bushes a minute later.

I contributed it to having the flu until I smelt pizza again when I got into the apartment. Lily had gotten my favorite Bacon and Pineapple pizza before heading out to her Bio Lab. I threw up the bile that resided in my stomach.

I was in the bathroom watching the rain drizzle down the window when realization hit me that I would never be able to forget about that night.

"I hope this is alright," You said nervously.

I took my eyes from the wet windows.

It had started raining when we arrived at the hotel and we had found a secluded corner with two comfortable chairs close to each other.

You had taken a seat in one, taking off your jacket, sitting your bag on the floor, and curled up against the high sides.

I sat my bag on the floor since it was now dirty from being dropped, took a seat, and watched the rain fall down the window panes.

The nervousness in your voice shook me back into reality and my arms rested in my lap, cradling my sides.

"It's perfect," I said looking at the threads in your stockings.

Your hands still didn't fidget and it bothered me.

Were you not nervous?

"How is Yale?" My eyes traveled to the hem of your dress. The bottom of your dress had a beautiful design that caught my eye.

I replied, my voice a tiny bit louder, "Good, I got all As in my classes."

I didn't ask about NYADA.

Why ask about something that you were never told about anyway?

I saw in my peripheral vision you nodding your head and muttering, "That's good, Quinn."

I gritted my teeth.

It physically hurt to hear you say my name.

You represented things, Rachel.

You represented a lot of things that hurt and I hated that.

I spoke up again, "You called me."

My eyes had traveled to the buttons on your jacket, examining how many holes were in each.

You were nodding again. "I did."

I fiddled with my coat hem. "Why?"

You looked away from me to the window. I was brave enough to look at your face. You skin looked soft and I notice that you hair had gotten longer. It was swooped back out of your face and flowed down your back.

"I needed…" your voice fell off as if you couldn't get what you needed to say out.

"…I needed." You repeated.

Was it stuck in your throat? Is this what it sounded like that day you choked?

I could see your face contorting into a sadness that I didn't understand. It looked like something that should never be on your beautiful face and it hurt me to see. It almost hurt as much as the pain I have felt these last few months.

I couldn't handle that look on your face. Rachel, I can't handle you in pain in such a way that it would show in your knitted eyebrows, glossy eyes, and open mouth.

You were speechless and I was unfamiliar with that.

So, I changed the subject.

"I have a roommate and her name is Lily," I stated. "She went against us at Nationals in Chicago last year. She remembers you. She kind of hates you because of your voice. It kicked her out of a NYADA position, you know."

You looked at me as your contorted face slowly slide back to normal.

I don't know why I told you about Lily, but it seemed like it made you hurt less and it made me feel a little bit braver. I felt safe with Lily, so talking about her was safe.

"She said you had a big mouth and that's how all that sound could get out, but I knew she was only kidding. She was just bitter about NYADA." I said as I looked down and smoothed my hands over my knees.

You chuckled.

It sounded like a break in the dark.

I felt like light.

"What school was she from?" you asked with a tiny smile.

I answered quickly, "West Highland in Vermont. So, since she didn't get in she decided to just do her fall back plan of Yale's acting program. I like her a lot. She's honest but not mean like Santana can be. I figured that out the first day I met her. Mom took us to IKEA to furnish the apartment and I fell in love with an orange sofa. Lily said it looked like someone had puked on it but when she saw how much I liked it, we got it. It's by the bay window in our apartment. She's a really good friend and she loves to watch musicals. She swears you two will meet again on Broadway and she'll beat you out of a role."

You nod your head and meet my eyes.

I felt you searching and it didn't feel too good. So, I looked away and tried to think of something else to talk about.

I needed safe topics.

"Mom has dinner with your Dads every Thursday and Monday night. They go out on Saturday mornings to thrift and did you know she finally filed for divorce from Russell?"

This wasn't a safe topic; I don't know why I brought it up.

"I didn't know they became that close," you replied.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Yeah, they were lonely or something."

You nodded your head as if you understood.

I couldn't think of any other safe topic.

I didn't need to though because you were Rachel Berry and you were dramatic.

"I missed you, Quinn." You whispered leaning forward and placing your hand on my jean clad knee.

The butterflies in my stomach became more intense.

I didn't understand what you meant by 'missed'. It could mean a million and one things.

Or it could be that simple.

It didn't matter.

I became nervous and nauseous and the butterflies turned into pterodactyls.

I met your eyes and my body became overwhelmed.

**It** didn't like it much.

So, I vomited.

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Feedback is always appreciated and encouraging. Thank you so much again to everyone who took the time to favorite the story and to leave feedback. It inspired me.


	3. Inbetween

**in-between.**

****Thank you so very much for those who favorite and reviewed. Since I had the time I wanted to get this part to you tonight. It's super long and hopefully answers a little bit of questions ;)

Let me know what you think! Again, you can also find me at foodinherbelly at tumblr.

I hope that you enjoy.

TW: mentions of rape

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I looked at the pink swirl of textured mess on the floor on the side of the chair. The delicious strawberry ginger root smoothie that I had this morning had made an appearance.

So much for helping with the nausea.

If it were three o'clock, I wouldn't be surprise. That's when **it** repelled things.

Though, I'm sure it was probably the stress and near panic attack you caused that was the true reason I had expelled my breakfast.

The 'sickness' was a lot worse with it then it was with Beth. With Beth it was more manageable and it only occurred five times a day from morning to afternoon. This time around I was getting sick at every other hour on that hour.

The midwife said that it is healthy and means that it is in good shape.

But that doesn't mean that I feel any better about seeing my breakfast on the floor.

I got a tiny bit on your shoes but I couldn't apologize for that because I was too busy keeping my head down and wiping at my mouth. You didn't seem too concerned about it anyway.

My breath was uneven.

"Oh my god, Quinn, are you alright?" you ask with deep concern as you got up and got down on your knees in front of me, missing the pile of vomit at your side.

I couldn't look at you.

I didn't know how to explain just vomiting in the middle of the fucking Hilton.

I couldn't look into your eyes, Rachel, because we all know how I am with spitting out the truth.

This is one truth that I don't want to tell.

At least not to you.

I haven't told my mother yet either, and that has to come from only me.

But, Rachel, I can take her disappointment.

I can't take yours.

Lily wasn't disappointed in me when she found out. It was a week after I figured it out. She had complained about being waked up at all hours of the night with me vomiting. She joked by saying that if I was so desperate to fit into a size four jeans then I could just work out with her.

I looked at her with a pale face. I don't know when Lily had become a close friend. Was it when she let me have that orange couch or was it when she took interest in my life story as did I her's? Did we become close that morning she had picked me up seeing me at my lowest or was it when she automatically knew I was pregnant after my face went ghost white?

Lily had become the sister that I never had. Let's be frank, Frannie had been a shitty sister.

Lily was the perfect substitute.

She was ranked up there with Santana and Brittany now.

You would like her. I know that you would.

She takes care of me. She makes sure that I eat balanced meals, take my prenatal vitamins, go to my scheduled midwife appointments with her aunt who lived thirty minutes from Yale, and she even buys baby books and places them in my bag or on my bed without me knowing. She's good to me, Rachel, and she doesn't expect anything in return.

Was this the type of relationship you tried to offer me?

Did you only want to be sister like best friends?

When did the line between us changed then?

When did we cross it and were never able to come back?

I don't think we ever did change, Rachel. I think that our relationship just evolved into something deeper. You know more than I that we were never friends.

There was something there between us and it never was friendly.

I still wonder if you felt it as strongly as I did. I wonder if that is why you were so scared that night. I knew you didn't hate me, but the rejection just threw me over the edge. I couldn't handle one more person doing that to me.

Especially not you.

Your hand began to smooth hair out of my face. My hair had grown a little longer than the last time you had seen me. It was a little below my shoulders now.

You lifted my chin to meet your brown eyes. You were so concerned, "Quinn?"

I turned my head away from yours. Your warm skin burnt me. My body betrayed my mind because I didn't pull away completely. Though I should have, I knew that my mouth most likely smelt as bad as it tasted.

I nodded my head, "I don't think my breakfast agreed with me."

You began to help me stand up. I let you put your hands on my side and help pull me up. I got a waft of your scent and smiled inwardly. It helped ease my nausea. Your hand slide around my waist as you grabbed my black rollaway suitcase and your jacket, walking away from my mess.

Did you feel the swell of my hips?

If so, you didn't say anything about it.

We walk a little bit away from it as I try not to get too comfortable.

It would be so easy to lay my head on your shoulder. You were shorter than me on most given days, but with me in flats and you in heels, we were near the same height.

I didn't give in though. I didn't even touch you. I only allowed you to put your hand around my waist and take just a little bit of my weight.

I could not give in.

I could not lay my head on your shoulder.

I could not lean over and sniff your hair.

I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"Do you know what room your mom is in?" you asked, your voice still tinged with concern.

I shake my head, "No, she told me there would be an extra key at the desk waiting for me."

"Well, would you rather me get it so that you can sit and rest?" your words were less like an ask and more like a statement.

I didn't want to let you do something for me though. I didn't want to feel like I need you or you to feel like you are needed by me.

It wasn't a fair feeling for the both of us to feel in the state that we were in.

The unknown was a dangerous place to be in the world and we were treading on hazardous grounds.

"I think I'm okay," I told you as I pulled a little bit out of your grasp. Your hand was tight though.

Rachel, you hesitated to let go.

Why?

Why would you do that?

Yet, reluctantly, you let go.

I added, "Plus they may need my I.D."

"Of course," you said as if you just remembered proper hotel protocol.

I tell you that I will be okay to get the key and asked if you could watch my bag. You smiled and nodded gently as I turned and walked toward the counter.

With a smile I introduced myself and told the man behind the desk that my mother had left a key to our room there for me. He went through the normal protocol (asked for an ID and signed release) before turning around to go look for the key.

I made the mistake of looking back to check to see if you were still there. As if you would disappear within two minutes.

You were there with my bag at your side and your jacked draped over the top of it. You were wearing grey stalking under a cream colored dress that had beautiful designs dancing across the hem and collar. Right now, you looked classically beautiful. You weren't the Rachel that I had once thrown slurs and slushies at in the hallway. You were somehow different and I couldn't place it.

It scared me a little bit, not knowing the person you are now.

I wondered if you felt the same.

You met my eyes and gave me a tiny little half smile. Your hand rose to give a wave as your phone with off and you hurried to pick it up.

I quickly turned my head, not wanting to find out if it was him on the other line.

I don't know if I could handle that.

Not right now.

So, my fingers went back to the counter as I waited for the man to get back.

"Miss Fabray?" the man asked as he sat an envelope in from of me with my keycard in it and the room number written on the top.

I accept the envelope and thank him. I turn around and begin to walk away before turning back and whispering to him, "Umm…I…"

He looked at me waiting.

Instead of telling him that I vomited in the lobby by the windows I just shrugged and said, "Nevermind."

I quickly turn around and walk back to you.

You had your head down with your phone to your ear and your finger in the other. It wasn't too loud in here (which surprised me) but I figured that you were just trying hear a little better.

I didn't want to hear your conversation and I tried to look anywhere but you, but words drifted past me and I picked up on them.

You let out a sigh and quietly rushed out, "I really don't want to fight with you right now… I am busy and you need to respect that…no, I didn't say that. Please don't put words into my vocabulary…I think that you are perfectly capable at finding your own dinner. You have been doing it for a while now…Do not blame all this on me… No, we were…. You're not even listeni…You know what? I don't want to talk to you right now…. No, I will not come ba…. Are you even listening...I'lll talk to you later. Goodbye."

Your words were curt and unhappy. You took another big breath to calm yourself as you reached down and put your phone back into your pocket of your jacket. You smoothed out your dress.

I didn't know what to think of what I heard.

What did I hear?

I wasn't dumb or completely lost to not realize that you were unhappy talking to whomever you did.

Rachel, I don't want to make such a big assumption though.

But where you unhappy?

Could you possibly regret your choice?

Hell, did you finally see what an asshat that Finn could be?

I felt guilty for wishing unhappiness on you in any way or form.

Yet, I couldn't stop and think of the all the 'what ifs' that had plagued me for all these months.

It used to be a game I would play when I needed to torture myself.

I would ask myself all these questions and imagined the amazing life we would be living right now.

What if you didn't push me away that night? What if you kept me in your arms and never let me go that night?

This visit wouldn't have been by accident then. We would be celebrating the holidays in the city with both sets of our parents. I would have taken you ice skating in central park while our parents dined at a local diner, talking about how they knew just how perfect we would be together.

You wouldn't be trying to calm yourself down right now.

I would be happy.

You would be happier.

I wouldn't have lost myself. I wouldn't have lost the only control that I had. I wouldn't have been drugged or raped or had to learn to live life feeling like nothing.

I wouldn't be pregnant.

It wouldn't be growing in my belly.

Did you know **it's** heart is beating, Rachel?

I heard steady thumps on the midwife's stethoscope.

I was so close to aborting it but I just couldn't. I thought about Beth and then I thought about how guilty I would feel that I wouldn't give it the chance it deserves. It wasn't to be blamed just as much as I wasn't to be blamed that this happened.

It wasn't our fault and I knew that.

So, now it's growing.

And if things had been different in our 'what if' world, it wouldn't be.

I don't know how I feel about that.

"Sorry about that," you said looking around us, not meeting my eye. "I can walk you up to your room. I would like to make sure you are alright, Quinn."

The way you said my name drove me crazy.

I let you follow me though. We took the elevator because it was on a high floor and my feet were beginning to hurt so badly in these shoes.

We were the only ones on the elevator.

Standing side by side.

I don't know where the courage came from but I asked.

"How are you?" My voice was filled with the raspy husk that it had once possessed. It was also filled with concern, worry, and curiosity.

The bell dinged and we stepped out.

1012.

We found the door and stood in front of it, facing each other.

Then it happened.

Your fingers began to fidget with the handle on my suitcase. Your eyes didn't meet mine.

I had always loved how much emotion you showed on your face.

You were an open campus with your feelings and it had always made my heart swell.

I can remember the first time that I made you blush. It was after we brushed our teeth and was going back into your bedroom to get ready for bed. It was our first night staying at the other girl's house. We never discussed our sleeping arrangements and if you were Santana we would have just jump into bed and called it a night.

Except you were Rachel Berry and I was Quinn Fabray and things weren't ever that simple.

We must have stood there for a good five minutes staring at your full size bed before you shook the silliness out of your head. "Seriously Quinn, we are practically adults, I think we can share a bed."

I noticed the nervous way you fidgeted with the hem of your tank top. I tried to take the awkwardness out of the situation about how you always wanted to sleep with Quinn Fabray. That was when you blushed so deeply that I was nearly worried.

Your emotions etch so quickly onto your face it makes me smile.

Except right now you look so completely detached.

It kind of frightened me.

You answered, "I like living in the city and going to school."

I shake my head, hair falling in my face, "That isn't what I asked."

You thought over my question longer.

I was beginning to think that you weren't that happy after all. I had moments of anger these last few months. I begged to God that you would feel my pain.

I didn't mean it though.

God knew that, he had to.

You leaned against the wall and looked past me. I studied your face more. I needed to store you in my memory. I needed to refresh the tangled memory of you with something fresh and perfect.

It hurts you will never understand how perfect you are.

"I'm exhausted," you let out. "And sometimes sad, other times angry, but mostly exhausted."

I bite my lip.

"Why?"

You look at me and our eyes meet. It feels like we were getting hit with electricity. You stopped fidgeting, "Why is anyone exhausted, Quinn? Life isn't going their way and they are trying their hardest to fix it."

I didn't understand what you mean.

I did understand that my heart was beating with a rush. I did understand that my breaths were too quick and too inefficient. **It** needed oxygen and I wasn't providing it very well.

I spoke up, "I disagree."

"With what?" you asked.

I took a second to think for a second. Life never 'got' in my way. The obstacles in my life got in my way. My unrequired love got in my way. My depression got into my way. The fuckers who raped me got in my way and stuffing everything inside got in my way. But life? No, it didn't get in my way and I wasn't exhausted because I was trying to fix it.

I was trying to live with all of these events and choices and in-betweens.

I spoke a little too fast, "Life doesn't get in your way and you aren't exhausted because you are trying to fix it. We get exhausted because we are trying to live with it. We are so tired and so exhausted and yes, at times, we are ready to give up because we are trying to live the life that we have made while still trying to march forward. It's hard and it's exhausting, Rachel."

I said what I needed to say.

I didn't care if it made sense.

But I realized that was the first time your name has fell aloud from my lips in such a very long time.

It made you look surprised.

It made me want to sob.

It sounded so beautiful and so sorrowful at the same time.

So, I turned and put my key in the door.

It was time for me to leave.

This was too much, Rachel, and I hoped that you could see that in my rushed actions.

"Quinn?"

Your voice was velvet in my ears.

I looked over my shoulder at you. A tear too weak to hold on and escaped to my cheek.

You continued, "Can I see you again?"

I couldn't understand how such a simple question could be so loaded.

I turned back to the door and put my hand on the cold surface. I needed to be grounded. I had lost my tether and I needed to be grounded and the cold surface helped a little bit.

You sighed, "Can I at least text you?"

Your voice held a desperate need that I didn't understand.

I didn't know you anymore Rachel and it made my frustrated. It made me scared and I didn't know how to deal.

So, I nodded my head and walked into the room. The door closing behind me.

I left you standing there by yourself.

...

_**You:**__ This is still your number? Correct, Quinn?_

_**Me:**__ That is correct._

_**You:**__ =] Good. I am quite pleased knowing that some things haven't changed. Thank you for letting me tag along with you today. _

I didn't reply.

Mom walked into the room from her shower. She was in a plush white bath robe as she came and sat on the edge of her bed, facing me.

She smiled softly at me, "How was your trip here, Quinnie?"

You always used to giggle when she called me that childhood name. You knew it made me feel so loved when she did it, but it was such an unexpected emotion coming from me.

I shrugged, "Okay."

Mom looked at me with a tilt of her head and hurt in her eyes.

I wasn't good at this. I had tried so hard and so had she, but I just felt so disconnected from everyone. It wasn't like I don't see her or anything. Mom came up to visit me every three weeks now. It was a lot better than every day for three weeks after that night. That changed to every two weeks. And now, it was every three weeks.

She was slowly feeling better with knowing that I was doing better at Yale.

It still didn't mean she didn't worry.

I'm sure you would do the same thing if you were in her position.

"Did Lily not want to come down?" she asked as she dried out her hair with a spare towel.

I answered with the same dejected tone, "No, she and Zachery were staying with her aunt for the weekend before going up to her parents for Christmas."

Mom nodded her head, "Oh, that's good, he's a good boy."

I nodded me head and let my fingers slide across the soft down comforter underneath me.

Mom looked at my thick wool coat that she had bought me a few weeks ago. She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why don't you take off that warm jacket?"

I shrank lower into my jacket, "I don't want to mom."

She stopped her movement. She was a mother and I was her daughter and she knew me better than the back of her hand. I was a part of her flesh and a piece of her heart.

Mom put down her towel and stood up. She walked a little closer and put her hand on my forehead. She took a seat next to me and smoothed my hair back. "Quinnie…you know that we could talk if something was the matter right?"

I looked away. Her worried eyes were almost as bad as yours'. I think that you both perfected it last summer because it broke my heart.

How was I supposed to tell her I saw you today?

How was I supposed to tell her that I had something growing in my abdomen?

How was I supposed to find the courage to say these words out loud?

I couldn't disappoint her just as much as I couldn't disappoint you.

You two are the most…

She is the most important person in my life.

I was beginning to feel nauseas again. It was fluttering around and my stomach was beginning to tighten. I stood up quickly, "I'll be right back mom."

I say as I rush into the bathroom, throw off my hot coat, turn on the water, and bow down to the toilet. Bile rose in my throat as the feeling of throwing up all of my organs over took me.

I clung to the toilet. All my strength had left me for the day and I ended up resting my head on the seat. I was breathing hard, trying so hard to catch my run away heart.

It was too much.

I began to feel like the walls were coming in on me.

I began to rub my stomach and hum a little song. It was a song you used to sing me to sleep to. It helped calm me and I think it calmed **it** also.

I closed my eyes for a little bit before the door opened quickly.

"Quinn, how long have she been texting you?" my mother asked with wild concern before her eyes landed on me.

My phone was in her hand and your name was on the lit up screen.

Mom's eyes were on me, my hand on my stomach, and the vomit in the toilet.

Her eyes got big.

Several emotions took over her beautifully ageing face.

First there was anger but that was quickly taken over my curiosity before realization found its way and tears quickly swelled in her eyes.

"Oh Quinnie," her hand quickly shot up to cover her mouth to cover up a sob.

Would you be this upset if you found out that I was pregnant?

Would you be devastated to find out it was due to me being raped?

I thought that re-learning how to walk was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life (second to giving Beth up for adoption). I thought that the victory of taking my first step was my moment to shine and things could only get better.

It wasn't the hardest though. No, Rachel, this was the hardest. Dealing with every single thing these last few months.

How was I supposed to do that?

How was I supposed to do it alone?

I never expected this, Rachel.

I never expected sitting on the floor with my mother falling to her knees to take me into her arms as she realized that her broken daughter was now pregnant by the person who took so much away from her.

She held me tight and I held her back.

And you know what?

I cried.

I cried for everything that I had lost.

I cried for the pain that had been between my legs and for feeling as if I had absolutely no control over my body.

I cried for becoming pregnant again and I cried for this tiny little…**it**.

I cried for bumping into you today, for seeing you, for smelling you, and for being so close to you.

I cried for the loss of everything.

I just cried and my mother held me.

…

We stayed like that for a few hours. She had held me and told me soothing things and she was a mother. She had redeemed herself in that moment. She had truly redeemed herself.

Now we were sitting on our beds waiting for Room Service to deliver the million plates of food that we had ordered.

Mom gave me my phone back and I noticed two text messages from you.

I felt light after we left the bathroom.

My coat discarded on the floor. I stripped down to my boy shorts and tank top. I was lighter and I felt a tiny bit better.

And I even felt a tiny smile curl on my lips when I read your messages.

_**You:**__ What are you doing tomorrow? _

After not answering back for an hour, you had sent the second one.

_**You:**__ I need to go look at a few apartments tomorrow and I really don't want to go alone. After I can buy you dinner? As a thank you? _

I looked at it and then back up.

Why did you need to find an apartment? Did this have anything about the phone conversation from earlier?

Mom's voice took me out of my thoughts, "How long have you known?"

I looked at her. She looked tired but supportive.

My mom looked so supportive.

"About a month," I said.

She nodded her head and continued to ask, "Have you seen a doctor? Do we need to find one?"

I shake my head, "No, Lily's aunt is a midwife. She's doing it all for free."

Mom nodded her head as I played with the phone in my hands, running my fingers over the smooth apple on the back.

She continued, "So, you are going to…have it?"

I looked at her trying to see her expression as I nodded my head.

"Are you," she stuttered. "Are you going to keep it?"

I frowned and looked down at the swell of my belly. It was the cause of the swell and the nausea. "I don't know, mom."

"Do you want to?" she didn't say that loud but with a soft, cautious voice.

My hand went over my belly to hold it. This was a question that I couldn't…wouldn't think about right now. I had school to think about and I had living to think about and I had to think about if I wanted it to have such a broken mom.

So, I gave her the same answer with a sadden voice. "I…I don't know, mom."

She nodded her head and smoothed back her hair. She met my eyes with her identical green ones, "Whatever you choose, Quinnie, I will be right her with you."

I bit my lip to stop from crying.

There was a knock at the door with a loud 'Room Service' yelled on the other side. Mom got quickly up from the bed to answer it.

My phone vibrated.

It was from you.

_**You:**__ I'm tired of living in the dorms and my dads said they would pay for my rent and food if I could find an apartment close to campus. It would mean so much if you came, Quinn._

Your story was slowly unraveling.

And it only made me more confused.

But you were Rachel Berry and I was Quinn Fabray.

_**Me:**__ I'm going to see a show with mom tomorrow night at seven. I'll meet you in the lobby in the morning at eleven, we can get lunch instead of dinner, and head out to look. Would that work?_

My heart was fluttering.

I was going to see you tomorrow.

Again.

I thought I never would see you, Rachel, and I get to see you again tomorrow.

_**You:**__ It's perfect._

* * *

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	4. Shake It Out

**shake it out.**

I really appciate the favorites and even more, those who take the time to reviews. If you would like any reviews answered, please just leave a note at the end of it and I will make sure to message you. If it's something super important to the story, please find my tumblr (foodinherbelly dot tumblr) and leave me an ask (anon or not).

I hope that you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the last couple.

Thank you guys so much!

* * *

I was too nauseous to open my eyes. I had my knees curled up to my chest as the bubbling in my stomach would not stop.

I was clenching my eyes closed when my phone began to ring for the third time.

It knew it was you calling.

I knew that the five texts that had originally woke me up an hour ago was you also.

And I also knew that the anxiety raging through my bloodstream was only amplifying my nausea.

You have always caused butterflies in my stomach, there is no question about it.

But I don't think you realize how anxious you make me feel also.

Rachel, from the first time I met you there has always been anxiety.

When I first saw you, you stirred up unfamiliar feelings that a good Christian girl raised by Russell Fabray should never feel. I was completely scared that I had just saw this beautiful girl who was making my body react in ways that I had known it shouldn't. My heart had rose to block my throat because all our first day of high school I was scared that someone would notice me looking at you. I thought that someone would catch on.

I couldn't have that.

I couldn't be Lucy again.

I couldn't be that low, Rachel, and I was just so scared.

So, the next day, you got slushied.

It was like that all through high school.

And I will never apologize enough for making you what I used to be.

I called you all those names to cover up every single fear I had. I would almost never threw a slushy myself. I wouldn't have been able too.

When I did, I cried in the bathroom afterwards.

Rachel, you were stronger then me.

I bet that you still are.

Over the course of sophomore and junior year, the anxiety started to slowly disappear. And after I had Beth, it was almost completely gone.

Then senior year happened.

And the anxiety turned into butterflies.

I still remember every single time in senior year you were there for me. Even those times I hated the fact you wouldn't leave me alone, you still kept pushing because you could.

You were the only one.

You convinced me that I was worthy.

Worthy of what?

I don't know.

But I felt worthy none the less.

You convinced me over and over that I was someone important to you.

Remember the night at our Prom in our hallway?

By then, it became our hallway.

"Do you realize what you mean to me?" you asked me.

I remember I had frozen up in my chair. The butterflies were getting heavier, and more crazy, and I was sure the anxiety was slowly creeping in.

I noticed you right then, Rachel. I noticed every piece of you and I couldn't breathe. I noticed the different way you wore your hair and the beautiful soft pink dress that complemented your olive tone skin, and I noticed you. I noticed every thing you have done for me, for others around you. I noticed the woman you had grew into. I noticed your personality and your ambition and I just noticed everything that was you in that single moment.

I also realized how my heart jumped into my throat and was cutting off my airway. My stomach was doing flips and there were cold chills running down my spine.

"Do you realize what you mean to me?"

You were looking down at me in my wheelchair except you really weren't looking down at me. You never looked down at me.

I didn't realize how much, Rachel.

I was (and still am) broken Lucy.

I just spent years covering all the hurt up.

I remember I had looked into your eyes. I was stunned. I wondered what words would escape your lips after you announced that, but the words you continued with didn't match up to the look on your face.

Then Santana walked past and ruined the moment.

Or she saved it.

I still don't know.

Rachel, I wonder if what I mean to you has changed.

I'm sure that it has.

Except yesterday when I saw you, you still looked at me with the same intensity. You still talked to me the same. When you grasped my side, it was the only thing that felt deeper.

I was stronger.

I concentrated on how good it felt to have your hand grasp my side. Even over the wool, I could feel the push of your palm and the stroke of your fingers.

If I wasn't too worried about you feeling the swell, then I would have been more focused on the way your hands felt on me.

Then I would think of all those nights we slept in your bed together.

How your legs would 'accidently' entangle in mine.

And how wet it made me.

You always made my center ache.

"Oh Quinnie," mom said from the bathroom as she adjusted her makeup before she left. "Darling, your phone has been going off for the last fifteen minutes. Please answer it before I chuck it off the balcony."

Mom went back to her make up.

I groaned (loudly) as I reached over unsuccessfully for my phone. After a few tries, I finally grasped the cold device, pulled it under the covers, and answered.

"Hellwo?" I asked muffle, my face in the pillow.

"Quinn? Are you okay? I've been trying to get a hold of you for the last hour. I've been in the lobby for the last fifteen minutes and if it wasn't for not remembering what floor you were on, I would be up there right now." You paused and took a breath.

I couldn't help but smile.

The same over reacting Berry.

You continued sounding uncertain and suddenly smaller, "We are still on for today, right?"

I let out a tiny groan as I forced my stomach to behave. The nausea only got worst when the butterflies heard your voice and began to riot. Obviously it didn't like sharing space with butterflies.

Groggily, I begin, "I…"

My anxiety began to get worst.

It had become worse since that night.

The night at your house and the last time I had seen you before bumping into you yesterday.

Should I invite you up?

Should I ask you wait another thirty minutes in the lobby?

If you came up, then you would instantly see the little baby swell.

You would notice it. You were Rachel Berry, you noticed everything and you would most definitely notice it.

Yet, if I didn't invite you up then you would have to wait longer.

I could see you standing nervously in the lobby. Your cheeks would be rosy from the bitter wind coming through the constantly opening doors. You would be thinking a million things, wondering a billion, and finding a trillion to obsess over.

Because, Rachel, you were a worrier.

"I'm leaving to meet up with some friends, Quinn. See you tonight for our show!" My mother said as she danced across the room to kiss my forehead and an 'I Love You'. She looked me in the eyes and kissed my forehead again before walking out the door.

Tears grew in my eyes which caused this nauseous feeling to get worse.

Damn. Damnity. Damn.

"Quinn? Are you alright?" you asked, voice full of concern.

I was about to vomit.

My stomach was bubbling.

"I…" I stumbled on my words and my stomach was lurching. I jumped up out of bed and quickly said, "The door's unlocked."

I threw the phone on mom's bed and ran.

I emptied my stomach on the bathroom floor.

…

You found me there on my knees scrubbing the floor trying to fight the tears in my eyes.

I was frustrated and embarrassed and scared.

Your face was frozen.

I was wearing red boy shorts and a white cheerios tank top.

You were completely silent. It was odd having you just watching me. You weren't saying something blunt and that was unlike you.

What were you thinking?

You were so blank right now and I wasn't used to it.

Were you disappointed in me? I don't know if I could take it if you were.

I looked down at the near cleaned up mess and back at your frozen face.

So, I finished cleaning.

It took me only a minute to wipe it up and throw the messy towel in the tub for house cleaning. I slowly stood up, my head down as I turn to the sink and brush my teeth.

I saw you in the mirror studying me. You seemed surprised, concerned, and…

Rachel, were you angry?

I expected disappointment but the way your eyebrows net together, it caused me to think otherwise.

I finished and spat, catching sight of my swollen stomach underneath the tank top. It was barely there, but even barely there things can be seen.

I was showing a lot sooner than I did with Beth.

Just another loss in my life.

I walked past you to take a tentative seat on my bed, bringing my feet up to sit crossed legged.

You followed.

You didn't take a seat but stood in front of me.

This moment was surreal.

This moment reminded me of indie films and Pandora songs. It reminded me of scenes from the books that are all lined up on my book shelves at home.

Except we weren't in a book. Or a movie. Or a song.

Rachel, this was real life and real life was unexpected. It was chaotic and unpretty and beautiful and exciting all rolled up into this ball of unknown. Things were unplanned and never the way you wanted it or even expected. Life was racing to a wedding and ending up in wheelchairs. It was throwing the votes to make your best friend's high school life amazing. It was giving up your tiny baby to give them a better life.

Rachel, our life was like the time last summer that we went out to Old Henry field to have a picnic. Our food was perfect and laying in the wildflowers talking about our favorite books was amazing. Then it rained. Our food ruined, our conversation gone, and we were soaked.

We weren't happy about that day but we weren't sad about it. We just kept moving on and tried our best to live it to our standards.

Rachel, I wasn't expecting to run (literally) into you yesterday. That was by happenstance and remember how we talked about how things were just meant to be?

Then was yesterday just meant to be?

Was seeing you again just meant to be?

Was me running away from you that night meant to be?

My response was rash and fueled by emotion.

But it was human and it was understandable.

"If you give me a few minutes I will be ready to get go. I just…" I paused for a second and look down at my feet. "I just need to calm down a little bit. Do you mind if we get food first?"

I looked up at you.

You're expression still hasn't changed and it scares me.

"I have vegan crackers in my purse if you want to nibble on them." You said, your voice monotone.

I shook my head quickly. "Crackers make it worse. It doesn't like it."

I confirmed it.

I admitted it.

As if you already didn't figure it out, I just told you it was true.

You nodded your head.

Your fingers began to play with the edge of your t-shirt and it made me feel less nervous. This simple act of familiarity helped ease my worry.

"How long?" you asked looking anywhere buy me.

"Almost nine weeks," I say watching your face.

It bothered me that you weren't looking at me. You always looked at me and now you weren't.

You nodded your head and I saw you move your foot forward but then pull it back.

You were hesitating and unsure of yourself.

"Quinn," you sighed but still kept your eyes everywhere but me.

Then it happened.

The floodwalls broke.

You fell to your knees and buried your face into the side of bed right in front of me. Your hands grasped at the white down comforter as you hide your face into it. You began to sob and shake and you looked so tiny.

My heart fell so far to the ground. It can't take the sounds of your sobs.

Rachel, you were so tiny. I wanted to move and hold you but I didn't know if you still liked that because you were not the same Rachel anymore.

So I waited for you to grasp my foot before sliding to the floor, reaching out, and pulling your into my arms.

You felt so good.

You were warm and Rachel, I haven't held anyone in my arms since last summer and that was you. Your body felt smaller. You felt more cold to the touch. Yet, your skin was still as smooth as it used to be.

I put my face into the crook of your neck and inhaled.

Your smell overcame me and the sickness in my stomach stopped.

It liked that smell.

Your arms went around my waist and drew yourself as close to me as possible.

My stomach did flips.

It liked you, Rachel.

We stayed like that for a moment before your sobs turned to 'I'm sorrys'.

My breath hitched and I couldn't breath anymore. I couldn't take your apologies because I wasn't prepared for it. I didn't understand why you were saying sorry because if I let my mind think that it was for reasons that I want, then we would be in a more confusing place then before you walked through tat door.

You were grasping at me and hiccupping and I just held you. My tears came soon after your hiccups and we sounded like a sad song. We always sounded like music when we were together.

I just held you tight to me and I refused to let you go.

Rachel, I would never let go.

* * *

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	5. Lucky

**Lucky.**

I want to thank everyone that takes the extra minute to review. It not only encourages me to write/update more, but it also encourages others to take a minute and look at this story. So, thank you. I also want to thank those who favorite and subscribe. It truly means a lot to a writer to know people are pleased.

* * *

"I'm so sorry," you murmured, muffled into my neck as you nuzzle your face in closer as if I would suddenly disappear.

I've always wondered if you came looking for me the next day. After you pushed me away and I left. I wonder if that's why you were so close to me that we practically melted together.

We have been sitting on the floor of my hotel room like this for a long time. I couldn't tell you exactly how long, but I could tell that my vision had become considerably less blurry and clearer over this time period.

My tears were gone and I believe so were yours.

Yet, we were still entangled.

We were folded together like a pretzel.

Our faces were buried in each other's necks and we tried to inhale each other.

Or at least, Rachel, that was what I was doing.

My nose was buried into your neck, taking deep breaths as I inhaled everything that you were. With each breath I became a tiny bit closer to you after our months apart. I was so far away from you and I just needed to be reminded of you for just a moment, a second.

So, I breathed you in.

I took in your smell, the cinnamon and peppermint overtook my senses.

Another breath and the feeling of your smooth skin against mine overwhelmed my senses.

Breath in and I felt the tiny hairs at the nape of your neck tickle my nose.

Breathed out and I realized that you were doing something.

Your arms had wrapped around my waist as you half sat in my lap. At some point your hands had slide under my tank top so that your fingers could play a dancing game on my lower back.

My breath quickened to the same rate as yours.

I felt the warm air against my neck as your lips rested on the skin. No, you didn't kiss me Rachel and I don't expect you to. In fact, I don't think that is what is needed right now with everything the way it is.

Do you realize how fragmented we are?

We are like a child's art project that had been torn into tiny pieces. We couldn't possibly know anything about the project without all the pieces glued together.

Are you going to freak out on me again?

Build me up again only to push me away?

I can't handle that Rachel.

I don't know how much I am willing to gamble.

I don't know how much I can take.

"Quinn," you started, squeezing me closer to your body.

You weren't able to finish your sentence. Your phone began to vibrate in your pocket against my hip. You pulled back to reach your hand into your pocket and pull out your phone.

I bravely lifted your chin with a finger to meet your eyes.

"Hello?" you answered.

When your eyes met mine, my hand dropped, and my heart took a leap to the floor. Your face was flushed and your eyes were rimmed red. You looked completely defeated and it broke my heart, Rachel.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, perking up just a tiny bit. "I'm sorry, Louise! I got caught up at Times…yes….well, umm, one second."

You pulled the phone down and covered it with your hand. You looked at me, "Do you still want to come with me to find an apartment?"

You paused for a moment and looked down shyly before continuing, "I would really love for your to join me and I value your opinion, Quinn."

The way you say my name has always made my lungs flutter. I couldn't breathe, let alone speak. So, I nodded my head.

You gave me a small smile and went back to your phone. "The one in Hell's Kitchen is a no. I love the ones near NYADA, if possible. Plus, they will be near Broadway….Of course, Louise, I want to make a good investment. This is my fathers' savings we are talking about… I rather a small two bedroom than a big one…. I'm open to a loft…Acoustics is a must, we've been over this…How about we meet you in Greenwich and work to SoHo from there?... We'll be there in fortyfive."

I watched you through this whole conversation.

My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to understand this situation.

I knew that you were looking for a different apartment.

Not the one that you and Finn had found on your trip with your father's to New York a week after graduation.

The one you talked for days about living in for the next ten years because it was perfect despite Finn not doing anything to help your dad's pay for it.

I knew there was a testy conversation yesterday to whom I could only guess was Finn.

I wanted to ask you right there what was going on. I was completely confused and I just wanted to know what was going on with your life.

I just wanted to know what was going on between us.

I glanced back at your face as you finished your conversation.

Rachel, you looked older.

You looked more experienced in this world.

How did you age so much in such a little amount of time?

I moved my hand up to slowly and softly touch the side of your face, caressing it lightly. We broke a barrier, Rachel, when we ran into each other and our skin had collided. I couldn't get enough of touching your soft skin. You were smooth like milk and honey.

Your eyelids slid to a close and your face dipped forward to get closer to the palm of my hand. Your conversation was over, your realtor had hung up, and you didn't move except to move your face into my hand.

You brought a hand up to grasp mine, pushing it closer to your face and my hand was on fire. I was smashed between your skin and I felt like fire was spreading up my arm, to my shoulder, up my throat...

I broke this moment by pulling my hand down to the side.

It reminded me that it was there and **it** didn't like all this anxiety.

The butterflies were back.

And I couldn't handle being so close so soon.

It was too much, Rachel.

"We better hurry so that I can grab a smoothie from the café downstairs." I looked down and added quietly, "It gets…fussy when I don't eat."

Your eyes followed mine and you stared at it with a nod.

Your vision was on the small bump and it looked as if reality hit you.

All softness had disappeared and a solemn look replaced it.

I bit my lip and walked toward the closet.

What were you thinking?

Were you curious if I had slept with someone?

A one night stand or possibly a boyfriend?

Yet, despite fearing that you are disappointed in me, I wish you knew it wasn't my fault.

Oh goodness it wasn't my fault.

I sighed.

I grabbed an outfit out of the closet and took it into the bathroom. I was Quinn Fabray and I thanked the heavens for the stone Fabray face that had been passed down from my mother to myself.

I walked out a few minutes later in a comfortable pair of skinny jeans and a simple cream sweater that buttoned on the side.

"I'm ready," I softly said as I grabbed my wool jacket and boots.

You smiled at me and walked closer.

Your hand, ever so slowly, came up and caressed my cheek like I had done earlier. You quickly lowered it and you blushed.

Turning, you walked toward the door murmuring just loud enough for me to hear, "I just wanted to feel your skin again."

…

You were talking about your first successful semester at NYADA when we walked up to a beautiful 1940s era building. I was sipping on my Mango, Berry, Ginger (thank heavens for little health conscious café bars) smoothie as I watched your face light up as you discussed Madame Tibideaux becoming your mentor.

I laughed, "He can't be that jealous, can he?"

You nodded your head excitedly, "Oh, you know Kurt, he is extremely jealous! His mentor is actually this old pianist from Russia who nobody can understand. I actually kind of feel sorry for Kurt."

I shake my head at you as I notice that you really didn't feel that sorry for him. I smiled even more because you were still the Rachel Berry that had so much ambition to become at the top.

"So, this is a very nice area," I change the subject as I look around at similar buildings as the one we were standing in front of. They were all beautiful buildings, some with tiny little cafes with some people sitting out front sipping on their lattes. There was even a bookstore right around the corner that we passed when we got off the subway. It specialized in 'foreign, forbidden, and forgotten' books.

I could have seen myself there, spending hours gazing through books while you ran over your lines in your head. You would have been sitting in one of the old dusty chairs in the back, sipping on a tea, waiting for me to decide between one book or another. You never rushed me when I was so concentrated. You never had and that made me wish more than anything that my daydream was true.

Yet, it didn't.

You held the door open for me, "Oh, this is probably one of the best neighborhoods in the city. You will find a mix of people live here ranging from celebrities, to writers, to doctors, to everyone in-between. My dad's actually lived in this neighborhood before they went back to live in Lima."

I looked at you surprised as we went into the lobby, "I didn't know that Leroy and Hiram lived in New York City."

You nodded your head, "Yeah, Daddy went to Colombia as an upper grad and Dad followed him to study at NYU. Daddy's grandfather actually bought them an apartment here. They used to come back to New York to stay there a few times a year before they had me. When they did, they sold it and put all the money away for just this occasion."

I sipped on my smoothie, "I thought they used some of that for a down payment on the…"

You quickly looked away and shook your head, "That didn't work out."

I stopped breathing and glanced at you. You were looking around for your relator and I was looking for answers.

Where you trying to tell me something when you said that, Rachel? Because I don't want to make assumptions and think you were.

Did the apartment not work out or did something else?

I felt nauseated and sipped strongly on my smoothie, praying for a big chunk of ginger root to help it calm down.

"Rachel, darling," an older woman said as she walked out of the elevator and gave you a hug.

You smiled brightly at her, "Louise, it's been so long. Happy Holiday, thank you so much for taking time to help me find an apartment days before the holidays!"

She smiled softly at you, "For a Berry, anything!"

She glanced over at me and reached her hand out, "Louise Wilder, and you must be?"

I reached forward and shook her hand, "Quinn Fabray, pleased to meet you."

She let go and smiled brightly at us before explaining there were two apartments in this building that she wanted you to see before heading over to SoHo and to see a few more. You nodded your head as you walked next to me as we followed her to the elevator.

The first apartment that she showed us was at the top of your price range (fucking hell, I thought New Haven was expensive) two floors from the top of the twelve story building. It was a two bedroom, one bath, updated apartment with all the fancy tools and equipment. They had covered up all the walls and painted them. It was move in ready with dark walls and undertones. You loved the view from the balcony and I watched your face light up as she mentioned that a famous actress had lived there.

You looked from room to room, talking to Louise about changing this or that. You were excited and your face was so bright. You would look back, frantic to make sure I was there. When our eyes locked you smiled and kept saying how amazing this apartment was.

Except it wasn't you, Rachel.

Gray walls and fancy sinks weren't you. Yes, they were luxurious but they weren't Rachel Berry.

Rachel, you were much more than this.

You were soft hues and expose brick. You were whimsical and dreamy.

Your view shouldn't be of a street full of people under you but of a little court yard that you can escape to when the city becomes too much.

Rachel, you get overwhelmed like everyone else and sometimes you don't see that.

I always saw it.

That's why we would end up in a field for a picnic or in your back yard planting a garden.

Just to get away from it all.

You ran up to me and said, "This is it. I think this is it. Don't you, Quinn?"

Louise looked at me with as much hope as you did.

I looked down and bit my lip.

Should I be honest with you?

Of course, we are starting anew, I should be completely honest with you. About everything.

I shook my head, "It's not you."

You furrowed your eyebrows confused, "Are you sure?"

I nodded my head curtly.

With that you turned on your hill to Louise and promptly said, "Show me another one, please."

Four hours later we walked out of the sixth building, completely exhausted. You were starting to look very discouraged while Louise was just looking down right annoyed.

I hope you noticed the glares she kept giving me.

Bitch.

"That's all I had on the list, Rachel." She exhaled as we rounded the corner by the subway. "I mean, I could get another list together in a few weeks, but we saw all that was available under your requirements in this area."

Rachel huffed and nodded her head, "I understand, Louise, but I can't wait a few weeks."

I didn't understand what that meant and I wished that I knew what was going on with you Rachel.

What had happened?

As you two continued your conversation my eyes went in search for the small bookstore. It was in a small but wide, four story building in the center of a roll of three times as big buildings.

I found the bookstore, with shelves of books outside along the sidewalk with a smile.

Then something caught my eye as we walked past.

There was a sign.

"For Sale: Forth Floor Apartment, inside to inquire."

Was that sign there before?

I didn't even know but I was intrigued and curious and slightly freaked out by the coincidence.

"Louise?" I said, quickly getting her attention. "That sign there, could we ask to see it?"

She looked at the small red sign in the window and frowned, "Well, I don't think that would fit Miss Berry's requirements. She did say she wanted a great view and elevator. I highly doubt…"

You looked at me with curiosity but quickly turned to cut off Louise. "What's the hurt in asking?"

I genuinely smiled at you.

When you smiled back I bit my lip and looked away, following the older woman into the bookstore.

It smelt like musty books and I could have sworn I closed my eyes and inhaled.

The sickness in my stomach quickly vanished from my stomach and I was completely at ease. There were so many words swirling around me and the smell overtook my body in a gentle haze.

Louise went up to the older gentlemen who were running the bookstore asking them about the apartment for sale. The men both had thick Yiddish accents, long black payots, and blue kippahs on their head.

Your face lit up as you walked forward and joined the conversation.

I wondered around when one of the men walked over to me, "Are you looking for something in particular?"

I shook my head, "No, I'm just waiting to see the apartment with them."

He smiled and nodded, "Well, it might be a while before that. Abram is known to be a talker. I can take you up right now if you would like to see."

I smiled at him and looked over at you. You were in a deep conversation with the other man while Louise stepped to the side on her phone. I looked back into your gentle eyes and nodded.

There was no elevator.

You would get over that.

We actually went to the back of the store to a nicely sized courtyard with flowers and vegetables, a few black iron tables, and even a family sitting off to the back reading a book. The children were laughing with their parents and it caused me to smile a sad smile.

I looked up noticing a few balconies overlooking the courtyard. Most balconies had a small table and chairs and some flowers.

I could see you sitting out in the morning at one of those tables.

The man, whom I learned was Abram's brother, Samuel, led me to another door. We walked in and I learned it was the main entrance of the building. There were steps leading to the fourth floor really weren't that bad. The décor in the hallway was very warm and relaxing.

The whole building smelt like lavender and old books.

I absolutely loved it.

"Here we are Miss Quinn, apartment 4A. There are two apartments on all floors but the first. That is the shop and storage." Samuel explained as we walked into the apartment. "It's a rare occasion to have any openings. Since all of our residents are from the synagogue, word tends to get around someone is selling and another quickly buys it up."

I nodded in understanding but once I walked out of the foyer into the open living room, I stopped.

This was you, Rachel.

There were huge windows that let in so much light. The floors were original hardwood, perfect condition, and I could imagine you sitting on a blanket near the window reading over a script and smiling to yourself. I can see the sun dancing in your hair as I made you breakfast.

I shook the last thought from my head.

There were bright colors on the walls, but not blinding.

I felt at ease.

It was gentle here and I could see you walking these rooms.

"The kitchen is designed to be kosher, if that matters." Samuel said as we walked through the attached kitchen and dining room.

I nodded my head a little and spoke softly, "Rachel is Jewish, but I don't know if she does kosher. She's vegan though."

The openness was a lot better than the closed space at the other apartments.

"Two bedrooms and a loft," he said pointing to the spiral stairs in the corner of the living room and the hallways behind it. "A master bath in the loft and another bathroom with a shower down here."

I quickly went to look at each room.

It was as if you were a ghost.

I could see you doing things in each and it made my heart ache because I as I saw you, I saw myself with you. By the time I made it to the steps of the loft, I was swiping away tears.

Samuel stayed in the kitchen area, giving me space to look around.

I appreciated that.

Like this apartment, Samuel seemed like a gentle soul. You needed that around you.

My breath hitched as I made it up to the loft.

There would be a simple bed right there, on the left with photos everywhere on the wall. There would be books and photo frames in the built in book cases lining the opposite walls. The doors to the balcony would always be open, letting in the fresh air and the sound of children laughing below. I checked out the bathroom, smiling at the old fashioned tub.

Walking back out, I couldn't take the image of us sleeping in a bed up here together. I was getting upset and the gentleness of the apartment wasn't helping right then. I put a hand over my abdomen and lightly rubbed it, soothingly.

I used to do this when Beth was in there. Now **it** resided there and it seemed to be helping.

"How long are you?" Samuel asked from the kitchen, watching me as I stood at the top of the steps.

I wiped some more tears away, "Nine weeks."

He smiled, "That baby is lucky."

His accent got thicker as he spoke with emotion but what he said shocked me.

How could this baby be lucky?

"H-h-how?" I asked.

"Because I have never seen two people more in love," He answered simply. "and that's all a baby needs."

My breath hitched, "No, we…"

He smiled at me and gave me a small nod before repeating, "That baby is lucky."

I opened and then closed my mouth.

I wanted to deny him.

I wanted to question him.

I wanted to scream at him for knowing nothing about you and me because I knew nothing of us.

He continued, "I've never been wrong, Miss Quinn. That baby is lucky but I'm also seeing that it goes both ways for the two of you. I'll take sixty under the asking price as a gift."

I opened and closed my mouth again.

I was starting to look like a fish.

I was stunned.

I wanted to protest and deny.

But then you walked in with Abram and Louise.

You stopped midsentence, your eyes meeting mine as I rubbed my abdomen softly. You noticed this and I couldn't help but calm as I saw your slight smile.

"What do you think?" you asked softly, but I could hear you perfectly.

The gentleness of the apartment was back to taking us all over.

"It's you." I simply said.

But it wasn't you, Rachel.

It was us.

This apartment was us and I saw you open your mouth to correct me but you saw the words in my eyes.

I wasn't assuming, I knew.

So, you closed your mouth with a smile.

"I'll take it."

* * *

** I love reading all of your guesses on what's going to happen and your feedback. Thank you again for your time! I'm starting to kinda like all of you. Remember, you can find me on tumblr at foodinherbelly**


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